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A sermon,
of a sort, one
of a kind classified

prosopopoeia literally
a form or figure of speech,
answering a proposed query,

who what when where or why.

Centering our attention on why,
I shall endeavor, as I have heard
sermocinators originally served

those lacking book learning

with oral interpretation
on duty and debt, et cetera.
Sermocinations.
So, to use the time alloted
to retie the tie binding duty
and honor to the story told

in generally Christmas and Easter,
congregations of true traditionalists.

Our duty,
after tariffs on attention paid
football and all ball based
forms fertilized and fed
with yeastyeatsweets
at local circuses,
- stuck in costume
- take the collar off
- symbolically we do
- all we have
- to do
- nada mas, the traditions
- the cultural square laws
- stacking steep or straight
cotton candy pink

and now, local news,
wherever you may think
we use magic wherewith we
- impose Jello time, allowing
- our posed media shared mind
- state works with thinking letting
- letters form words from thoughts,

Thunk,
enscribe truths heard in wordform
seen in letters long since become
common,
to any able ever
to think,
pen and ink,
at the rate of cursive text to
press to
whom, objective subject re
submission, to a public mind re
whom do we turn, verily we kind
we category of mankind, unsorted
remnemonic palaces of liturgical awe
into heform sheform weform, mixed us,
untried spirits, most of us never thunk once
we the receivers warming the pews, expecting

or saying we do. Amen.
Sermon sayers saying same preplanned response.

Riddle me a riddle, Zeke,
whose holy stories hide
behind discipline, price paid, most honed
duty engrained since first communion, accepted
as common sense since first witnessed
on TV,
by the now grandfathering endurers
survivors of the mind wars, religious wars,
and mindshare wars after all attention was

valued on scales we stagger to think
we tip over backwards looking up to think

how can I look through the JWST.
How can any not attempt
to grasp the expanse
crossed since Alamogordo,
epimethean destiny makes religamentation work.
Did we ever wonder if saying amen means anything?
Indeed, mental enmonic   -non sense there's no such
Mnemonic, e-lessly de
memory neuronal response tool re
taught in rhetoric courses all bishops take,
courses,
of course, all who feel such duty calling, take
the same courses through human events as we

listen, as the winds list,
as we lean into the rhetorical
oracle of certainty central
inside job creative theory,
no outside sapience needed
to shape us,
as a we
form
touch
the ruling point, mean middle
to existing
on Earth, as words alone,
after all's been said.
Dendritic silk
Told known done
by confessing having will
to believe,
-- thickened time is pudding's proof

reality and time and all those other clusters
of weform organized societies, where children learned,

by royal decree, all children need be Starlinked to vote,

say what? Say what you think
in plain text translatable
cognatively allowing globalized Macaroni poetic license,

you know what I mean,
but in other words,
we agree, base
mind we form,
we
reading for the fun of it,
to get the feel of words as common as get
gotten and forgotten tenthousand times today,

there is a river, many messengers attest, a flow,
the  mind form imaginable in holy tellings of knowledge

science true call using knowledge with science,
consci used as psi or psy or gno or know is used,

to think, just
stop/think

Ai, you know, I would, as wills being imaginably
done, you know, I would, if I were you, enjoy

the time it takes

to read with all new words, to think your self
just ified, made up in a mind, inside
at least infested imaginably
with many verbs, set
to respond

to sponsors calling all who see
to see the mark
of me,
my weform, my teamform, my loyalty defining we form,

from which,
howling poets ever were out cast,

alas, but the Greeks had a word
for everything, the logos set of all Logos Sets,

tinker toys
erector sets
electric trains, and guns
these were toys of rich little boys

in America, as seen on TV in Tijuana

Waves, gentle, thinking price to know, ra'
as a thought, high e to compute a worth, towb
beautiful

tapestries, tries, thinking
in cursive tip preserving,

delicate touch tip to lip,

Sermonic deontological slip

up yours, the local team roars
all laughing like we were involved
no delay, west wall sunny day Febru=
februarius mensis "month of purification,"

so, as sermons granted whole days to happen
as such must agree who followed today, as hapt

to seem strange, by design
a quest toward the very answer we expect.


--- mindhat pause
Literally letting words mean all they may
in actual Wikipedian translations thinkable
across the spectrum, we form to make our

point, why are we involving you, or me, for
that which matters does not matter much for me.

Kinda wanna think it madjathank at a point thunk.

Power On Self Test

Invest the rest of one day in a story,
to discern the point to this course through

known, by word of mouth, mostly, through
time barely rememorable, mostly among
Latch key syndrome urban and rural

recollectable signs we shoulda seen,
but life, particularly self fulfilling bets
put in the time to see the first Jubilee,

and for many, learning once, in truth,

trade in a band of brothers mythic honor form,
a we of honed most blades in service of science,
slicing ever more gently the material reality, as we
scratch the beards on old men faces
we wear to bed at night, and find on other
peacemakers, earth as it must be where peace
abides, in truth, not entertained unawares, peace
made thinkably possible if pride were devalued.

Perfectly said, one thought, I heard go ding.
We are on the same page here, there is one thing

past understanding,

kindness rules evolution, we hate to differ,
we love to conjoin realities we each have endured

this is us, once more, forming a big parade,
or a strand of the stuff we see weaving galaxies

at scales only minds unbound by letters relax
loose
bowels of courage gut felt punched, too often,
gnoshit, Forrest Gump hit a nerve.

Whose is the audience, since all the world's
our stage, all active words advance

on step up, two steps back, onstep up, and so on…
element after loving simple long enough, you see
Ken Pepiton Jan 4
Pick a given day,
take one from the flow
of history through mystery
of us

we ready readers reckoning
today, we live or die,

no other options
at this level,
live
or don't,
don't make me
no never mind

pay no mind, rethinking
what you mean
long after all that made sense
dissipates, vaporixes
in a flash, up in smoke
worry worth a minute

becomes muddled in music
surrounding us in sounds
such as no humans

heard until this century

Rush- hush the sound, not the band
sh peace
soft noise of life, un urbanized slow

judge the day, is it worth it?

Do we connect,
feel the flow, knowing

not everybody weighs a given day,
as one when somebody must bake
and somebody must deliver
our ration of daily bread

and whatever else the daysman deems
mankind needs to rest in peace,

on earth, as it really is in perfect peace.
Timeless ever after all, happiest ever
as any fully Disneyified mind may
confirm believing, that was
Anaheim,
where Penny Thiel lived
first lived in bikini I ever saw,

we most of us, people in mean time,
average rate life pace,
taking time
from white trash
with a job,
by the hour, paying most attention,
near the end,
as time feels paid up

restless, time itself, feels tired, like
nonsense once made, staying nonsense

time spent
to pay attention deficits grown evermore
disbelievable, better cogitated, clumps
encultured gut biome global digestion

of things grown ups promised us true,
retired mental acknowlegement
authority,
when you are this
old, weigh memory
to take a task to test

was it worth it, to the doer, or
the audience involved in rewarding

the doing being proven possible,
and all adapting toe to TOE
whatsoever two or more
agree
ag me on, cogency effect

clump the entire trust concept
in spirit,
in mind and body both,
felt real... truth free making
taking an idle minute to remember
a given minute
in your judging day,
to redeem an idle word based idea,

spirit, what it is, live, breath
will to live, not to steal **** destroy,

just
to be, in touch, holding truth's
way what life with knowledge makes,

knowing truth never forbad knowing
life is hard, but when it works,

it feels beautiful…

rest, in time, rest while using time
to breathe and stare
at stars
in the desert,
you may imagine,
any night. Always following a good night rest,

trust, true rest compressed, rest in truth,

peace makers are made, not born, believe

the power dreamers were said
to have, take that and become dream interpreter, see, advise kings,
see all truth as hidden, invisible

without the dream interpreter certification

ai, dance, on a proverb old Ben used

seest thou a mench diligent
in his own business, busy mind

ing things that make sense, not mind
ing things that never will, mad, angery slippery

swiftest passage through

chaos,
art f'art towb ra'
nothing
to hold on, no conceptual gluonic attraction,

feel free will push,
push too hard,
pop

exhale, pursed lips, about
to weigh the day,
worth the effort
so far… so good… something suggesting

the current opinion, lets the whole day
be considered good,
if it bore good fruit.

Easy, idle time redemption token…

there is more, but, enough
the whole world knows, we cannot

tell the whole truth, and nothing but,

try it, kid. But trust the archives.
A seed originally intent on being thought through...
Ariana Solo Oct 2020
Taking some time each day to write poems

Has made me realise what little time we have for our inner selves

In our bustling, new-fashioned, demented world

I have found myself talking more through my poems than to people

🤫🤐🤫🤐🤫🤐
Chandy Jan 2020
I remember a dream
Late in the night
The eve of lucid thought
Cleaning a park
Black and red
Sketched in like a middle school doodle
My body was paper
Flimsy yet malleable
In the edge of the park
Parked on granite steps
Third from the bottom
Was an old man
I approached with careful steps
Gazing at my legs
Slowly raising his head toward the sky
A moment of brilliant silence
The man began to laugh
Unrelenting
Never stopping to breathe
Pointing at me
My essence
I hit him
But my bones connected
Into nothing
I awoke
To red
All-around
The kitchen floor
Is it my turn
To clean?
Max Neumann Dec 2019
a man who is about fifty years old has been suffering from
dementia. (demented people can't remember many things anymore; and they might have a hard time to say anything.)

his name is m.

m. is a silent guy. he talks barely and doesn't tend to look at
people.

i lived together with him for eleven days. most of our time, we were hanging around, smoking cigarettes.

one day, i put some music on. by aventura. one of their songs is called "obsesion". and when m. listened to his song, he changed.

his eyes were glowing with joy.
for real.
YouTube: "Aventura Obsesion Audio"
Oliver O'Connor Jun 2019
Stay away from the man in the mirror
You cannot keep going like this, dear
I know your fighting all your demented fears
But remember one day your thoughts will run clear
Kasper Oct 2018
I am the dark, and I’m always the might,
I am the monster that lurks in your head,
I am the monster that waits in the night,
I’ll make you pray to God that you’re not dead.

You are too small, you are not strong enough,
I will devour and gobble you all up,
You cannot get past me, I am too tough,
Before you know it, your time will be up.

I am the fears that haunt you through the night,
I am the shadows that hide in your walls,
I will crush you before you see the light,
I will see to it that you always fall.

I am the monster that lurks in your head,
As always, you know it, you will be dead.
This is a Sonnet I wrote for a homework assignment at school. Somehow, it went unnoticed by the teacher, but I still got a 100%. To me, this is a poem about depression. I honestly don't know if I have depression or not, but this poem expresses what it feels like.
Shelley-May Jul 2017
I, harbor danger.
Forever attempting to befriend the beast within
My grip, white knuckles, too weak,
She burns sharp as acid through the cracks in my fist,
Poison trickles through veins, taught.
Panic.
A Grasp of desperation,
Stumble,
on the edge with no choice but to balance
on the tips of broken glass.
A thing of beauty,
pride or disgust.
Both,
it must be
everything at once.
Terror swallowed in the dark
Demented
Chaos
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